Starting Anew
by totalhamiltrash
Summary: High school AU. This is the story of two teenagers, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, and their journey through life. Bullies, crushes, drama, this story has it all. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Hey FREAK!"

"Weirdo!"

"Dickhead!"

It was the first day back in school from the summer holidays. Pure torture. What even was the point of school? Sherlock already knew everything the teachers taught there. In fact, he ended up correcting many of them. He wished he could just stay at home, away from all of the stupid people at school, away from the bullies. Especially Sebastian, that God-awful piece of work. Alas, in order to go to university, Sherlock needed to graduate high school, but the insufferable principle refused to move him up a grade or two, and Mummy wouldn't let him transfer schools. He just had to endure it for three and a half more years…

"FREAK. I'm talking to you, so listen up."

"Go away Sebastian, I'm not in the mood."

"The HELL you aren't! You're gonna do as I say, or I'll punch your lights out."

Sherlock gulped, terrified of the bigger, stronger boy in front of him and quickly shut up.

"I'll tell you one last time," Sebastian started, "if you don't show up tonight, me and the lads will hunt you down, and we will find you. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," muttered Sherlock in reply. He dreaded going to the boys' change room every day after school had ended, for Sebastian and his gang beat him up dreadfully, but he had made the mistake of not showing up once, and true to his word, Sebastian had hunted him down, and been even more violent than usual. Sherlock had ended up going to the hospital with a broken arm.

* * *

Sherlock's lessons that day were as dull and boring as always, however today he just didn't feel like correcting the teachers. He just sat quietly in his desk, watching the clock tick. _Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._ Before he knew it, the final bell rang, and everyone jumped out of their seats. Sherlock ran quickly to his locker to get his stuff before the grade ten hallway got too crowded, then took his time in getting to the change room.

Sebastian and his mindless followers were already there and waiting when Sherlock arrived in the boys' changing room. The gang created a circle around Sherlock without hesitation, and began hitting him.

"Nasty bastard, you are!"

"Just shut up and hit him!"

Insults and fists were flying everywhere, and it was all Sherlock could do to curl up into a ball and occasionally shout out a deduction.

"How are you handling the breakup, Jim? Your eyes are red and puffy from crying, and Sarah's been avoiding you all day-obviously she broke up with you-" Sherlock broke off, screaming in pain when Jim started clawing and kicking at him.

"Don't," Jim threatened, "say anything about Sarah."

"Why?" Sherlock replied, "because she left you? Good thing she did; must've been an awful relationship."

"Shut the FUCK up!"

The kicks and the punches increased, but thankfully it was all over a few minutes later. Sherlock attempted to get up off the floor when all the lads had left, but he was in too much pain. Eventually, he just gave up and lay on the floor, hoping no-one would find him when he looked so weak and vulnerable.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

John Watson was nothing special. He wasn't particularly smart or handsome, but somehow he always had a bunch of girls trailing behind him, desperate for attention.

John Watson was nothing special, but for some reason, everyone wanted to either be him, or date him. He supposed he was popular because he was captain of the rugby team, because he definitely wasn't popular for his looks. He looked pretty ordinary, sandy blond hair and blue eyes… Even his name was ordinary. John figured that when he transferred schools last year, all he had to do was to join the rugby team, and everything would be fine. So that's what he did.

John climbed through the ranks quickly at his new school, going from just another newbie to the most popular person in school. Everything was great, and nothing could go wrong. Or so he thought.

* * *

On the first day back at school from the summer holidays, John was out practicing rugby with a few of his mates for a bit longer than usual. Okay, that was a lie. A lot longer, like an hour or two later than usual…

When they all finished practicing, John's mates decided to head straight on home while John got all his stuff from the change room.

"See you later mate," Mike Stamford called over his shoulder as he left.

"Text me when you get home," John replied.

"Will do."

John walked into the boys' change room, expecting to be the only one there since it was so late, but he strolled in to see a gorgeous boy with pale skin and dark curly hair collapsed on the ground and covered in bruises. Wait… since when did John find boys attractive? For Christ's sake, JOHN IS NOT GAY.

"Holy shit! What the fuck happened to you?" John inquired.

"None of your concern," replied the boy on the floor. "I'd appreciate it if you would just take your things and leave."

"Mate, you need help. You're hurt pretty bad."

"I'm FINE. Just. Leave."

"No," John stated firmly. "You need help, and if you're not going to go to anyone for help, then I'm gonna help you myself."

The beautiful boy in front of him just glared at him as John knelt down to tend to his wounds.

"I'm John by the way. John Watson. And who might you be?"

The dark haired boy muttered something incomprehensible.

"Sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you."

"Holmes, the name is Sherlock Holmes."

John grinned at Sherlock.

"Well Sherlock, nice to meet you."

* * *

John and Sherlock talked for a while, and as they talked, Sherlock slowly crawled out of his shell. He wasn't quite as arrogant and insufferable as John had thought he was.

"The truth is, I've never actually had a friend," confessed Sherlock, his cheeks tinged with pink.

"Well, do you wanna be my friend?"

"Are you quite sure that's a good idea? I don't want you to get hurt for being seen around me, you see, people really don't like me."

"Why on earth not? You're fantastic! You're amazing!"

John cut himself off when he saw Sherlock's expression. "I'm sorry, was it something I said?"

"No… it's just… that's not what people usually say."

"What _do_ they say?"

"Piss off."

John couldn't help but laugh, and soon after, Sherlock started laughing too because John's laughter was infectious.

* * *

Too soon, both John and Sherlock had to leave to go home, but before they went their separate ways, they exchanged numbers.

"Call me when you get home, yeah?" John told Sherlock.

"Yes! Fine! Honestly John, you're so obsessive!" Sherlock replied snarkily.

"I'm not obsessive, I'm just worried about your safety."

"I'm just going home, John! It's not like anything's gonna happen!"

"Just call me, Sherlock!"

What John wouldn't tell Sherlock was that he just wanted to hear his voice when he got home, Sherlock's rich baritone…. Wait. Why was John so obsessed with Sherlock again? For the last time, HE IS NOT GAY!

In the end, Sherlock departed after promising to call John, and a few mutters, but John left feeling very satisfied.

* * *

When John finally arrived at home, he was bombarded with questions from his mum.

"John Hamish Watson! Where the hell were you? I've been worried sick!"  
"I'm fine Ma, I was just practicing rugby with my mates."

"For THREE ADDITIONAL HOURS?"

Oops. John didn't think he was out for _that_ long.

"Who exactly were you playing with?"

"Ah, you know. Stamford, Lestrade and the gang."

His mother gave an approving nod and allowed John to go up to his room. He plopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, and he and been laying there for less than ten seconds when his phone started ringing. He glanced at the caller ID quickly before answering.

"Hey Sherlock."

"Hello John. You told me to call you when I got home, so here we are. I'm not dead."

"Well that's good to know," John grinned.

Sherlock and John were in the middle of a very interesting conversation when John's mum called up the stairs to let John know that "dinner's ready!"

"Oh shit, that's my mum, gotta dash. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Of course. Goodbye John."

"Bye Sherlock."

With a smile, John hung up, and _tried_ to wipe the silly look off his face before heading down for dinner, but failed.

"Hey, Johnny boy," greeted John's sister Harriet as he approached the table.

" 'Lo Harry."

"So tell me, little brother, what's got you in such high spirits?"

"Whaddaya mean?"

"All I'm saying is, it isn't often that you come home grinning like an idiot," Harry said as she rolled her eyes dramatically.

"I'm not 'grinning like an idiot'!"

"Mm, yeah, you are."

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are."

This continued until Mrs Watson entered the room with a giant plate of hot, steamy food.

"Harry!" She scolded, "stop tormenting your brother. John, stop arguing with your sister. Let's all forget about this little fuss, and dig in!"

"But what about Da?" Inquired John.

"Your father's away on a business trip," replied Mrs Watson.

"Oh," said John sullenly, "okay."

The three Watsons ate their dinner like it was their last day on earth, and when they had all finished devouring their food, John excused himself from the table and went to his room.

John did some homework for a while, enjoying working on science, but struggling with math. Eventually, he gave up, and he went to sleep, smiling at the thought of seeing Sherlock the next day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **A/N: Sorry for taking so long on updating, it's just that I've been rather busy with school. I try to update as soon as I can, unfortunately I don't have much time to spend on writing. :(**

 **Anyways, for this chapter I've gone back in time a bit so we can see Mummy Holmes' reaction to Sherlock's tardiness and injuries.**

* * *

Sherlock's mum was waiting at the door with a worried expression on her face when he got home.

"Hello mummy, I'm home," Sherlock stated quietly. His mum's eyes danced over him, taking in the bruises and plasters.

"Oh Sherlock," she breathed, "why did they hurt you _again_? Where did the plasters come from?"

"Mummy, you know perfectly well why they hurt me again. They do it every day or two. That's nothing new."

"And the plasters?" She asked once more.

"A friend."

"Sherlock Holmes making friends?" Interjected a new voice from inside. "Since when?"

"Go away Mycroft, I'm not in the mood."

"I'm just worried about my little brother," Mycroft replied smugly.

"Yes, well I'd appreciate it if you would kindly keep your nose _out of my business_."

"Ah, but you know that's not going to happen, brother dear."

Sherlock glared fiercely at Mycroft before storming inside the house and up the stairs to his room.

"Mikey, I do wish you wouldn't torment your brother so," Mrs Holmes sighed as she closed the front door of the house.

"Mycroft is the name you gave me, if you could possibly struggle all the way to the end," he bit back.

Mrs Holmes just sighed again.

* * *

Sherlock was sitting on his bed with his phone in his hand, dialing an unfamiliar number.

"Hey Sherlock."

"Hello John. You told me to call you when I got home, so here we are. I'm not dead."

"Well that's good to know."

Sherlock could just picture John grinning as he said that. Sherlock rolled his eyes at the goofy blond.

The two boys talked for a while, and with each new subject of conversation, Sherlock found himself falling more and more in love with the funny rugby player who was a lot smarter than he looked. _Stop it,_ he thought, _you've only known him for less than an hour and you're "falling in love" with him? I thought sentiment was a chemical defect found on the losing side._

Before Sherlock knew it, he was interrupted by an "Oh shit, that's my mum, gotta dash. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Of course," he responded. "Goodbye John."

"Bye Sherlock."

John hung up, and Sherlock immediately started deleting as much information about John Watson from his mind palace as he could. Mummy popped her head in Sherlock's room to let him know that dinner was ready, but to no avail. The tall, pale brunette was reclined, his eyes closed, fingers steepled beneath his chin, heedless to the world around him.

Mrs Holmes sighed.

* * *

Sherlock surprised himself when he woke up. He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep. This in itself was odd; usually Sherlock could go for weeks without sleep. Of course, there had been that one time where he had literally collapsed from lack of sleep, but that was beside the point…

Unfortunately, Sherlock had been unable to delete anything about John the previous night. He dreaded going to school without being able to first manage his feelings, and he contemplated simply not going, however he couldn't afford another absence; the principal had already threatened to expel Sherlock if his habit of "missing school" continued…

Sherlock decided against eating breakfast―digestion slows him down―and he practically skipped out the front door and in the direction of the school. He was just under two blocks away when a shiny black motorcycle pulled up next to him.

"Hop on, Sherlock!" John shouted cheerily.

Sherlock hoisted himself up behind John, unused to sitting on a motorbike, and grabbed John around the waist, holding on for dear life. John laughed at Sherlock's tight grip.

"We have time," John said, stating the obvious. "Wanna go for a ride?"

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders noncommittally before remembering that John couldn't see him.

"Sure," he said, sounding a bit unsure.

"Don't worry," John reassured him, "it'll be fun! I promise you won't fall off."

Sherlock rolled his eyes at John's cheerfulness and fake sincerity. _Whatever. It's John. May as well have some fun while I can._

John took Sherlock around the block, and the ride was exhilarating. The blood pumping through the adolescents' veins, just the two of them against the rest of the world. Too soon, it was over.

"That was," Sherlock panted as he clambered down from John's motorcycle, "much more entertaining than I thought it would be."

"Well I'm glad you liked it," John replied. "Come on now, we don't wanna be late for class; the bell's gonna ring in less than five minutes!"

Sherlock and John were not, in fact, late, however they very nearly were. The bell rang just as they both stepped inside the class. Thankfully the ancient and rather annoying math teacher was rather distracted, so he didn't notice the fact that the two teenagers were almost late for class.

* * *

Of course today Mr Smith would be handing back the tests from the previous week. Not that Sherlock cared; he always got perfect in all of his subjects. John, however, looked less than thrilled at the mark that he had gotten.

"John, what mark did you get on your test?" Inquired Sherlock, attempting to make conversation.

"Doesn't matter," muttered John disappointedly.

"Aw, come on Jawn," he drawled, "I want to know."

"I _said_ it doesn't-"

"MR WATSON!" Called out Mr Smith as he walked over toward Sherlock and John's desks.

"Sir?" Replied John meekly.

"John, your grades in math are extremely low. If this keeps up, you will end up failing my class. I highly recommend getting yourself a tutor for this subject."

"But-" protested John.

"No buts, Mr Watson, you need to improve your mark!"

Sherlock had merely been listening to the exchange between teacher and student when he interrupted.

"Mr Smith, _I_ could be John's tutor."

Sherlock went silent for a moment, observing John's reaction to his statement. At first, John glared murderously at Sherlock, but then his expression softened a bit as he realized that his math tutor would be his best friend.

"An excellent idea Sherlock!" Beamed Mr Smith. "You are, of course, my best student. Obviously, you two lads will need to get together regularly, I suggest every day-"

"Not a problem sir," grinned John at the turn of events. "Can't wait to start!"

Mr Smith laughed at John's newfound enthusiasm as he walked away.

"So, you're my tutor. Do you wanna come to my house after school? You can ride on the back of my motorcycle if you like," John said, seemingly preying on Sherlock's newfound fascination with the motorbike. Sherlock thought for a second before making a choice.

"Sure, I'll just text Mycroft at lunchtime so he knows I'll be home late."

"Great," said John.

The rest of the math class flew by, and so did all the other classes before lunch. Lunch… Not something Sherlock usually looked forward to, but John had changed everything.

* * *

Sherlock and John found a quiet place right outside the school where there were a few rocks that they could sit on. They laughed and talked about everything and nothing, having a great time. That is, until Sebastian Moran and Jim Moriarty walked up to them.

"Freak!" Called Sebastian.

"Moran, Moriarty," Sherlock acknowledged. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Cut the crap Freak, you know what we want. Same time, same place."

"Mm, about that," Sherlock said, "I'm afraid I can't make it. I'm rather busy tonight."

"Yeah, right. Busy shagging this bloke right here," Sebastian nodded toward John.

"Oi," shouted John, "I'M NOT GAY!"

"Ooh, Sebby, you know what I wanna do? I wanna burn the _heart_ out of them!"

"Shut up Jim! I told you not to call me that!"

"Whatever Sebby."

"Anyways," said Sebastian dangerously, "you know what will happen if you don't show up tonight."

John turned to Sherlock so he could ask what Moran was talking about when he noticed Sherlock panting in fear.

"You cock, pick on someone your own size!" John said, staring up at the hulking figure in front of him.

"Oh dear God, I'm shaking in my boots," Jim rolled his eyes.

"This little guy's no fun, come on Jim. We'll see you later FREAK," Sebastian declared as he walked away with Jim prancing along beside him.

"Those dickheads," cursed John. "What did they want anyway?"

John waited for a response. "Sherlock?" He turned to look at his friend who was still paralyzed. "SHERLOCK!" John yelled as he snapped his fingers in front of his tall friend's face.

"Wha-? Oh, John!"

"What did they want?" Repeated John, tilting his head to indicate the two bullies that had just walked away. Sherlock hesitated for a few moments, debating whether or not to tell John the truth.

"You know when you found me yesterday…?" He started unconfidently.

"Laying on the ground, barely able to move? Yeah," John said.

"Well...it was Moran, Moriarty and their gang that did that to me."

"They WHAT?!" Roared John. "I swear, I'll kill them myself!"

"No! John, no! Please don't! I deserved it."

"Says who?"

"I, um, well I might have insulted them one too many times before…"

"Sherlock," John groaned while running his hand through his hair, "why don't you just not say anything then? That's how I stay out of trouble."

"It's not like I can just turn it on and off, John. It's my mind, and I just _happen_ to say everything I think out loud!"

The two boys sat there for a few moments at a stalemate until John's curiosity got the better of him.

"So," he started, "you show up in the changeroom and they beat you up for the fun of it."

"Precisely so."

"And what happens if you don't show up?"

"They find me outside of school and they bring even more of their buffoons to beat me up."

"And you know this because…?"

"Let's just say I don't want to break any more of my bones for a while."

"Jesus…"

"Indeed."

John was seated on his rock, completely silent for a few seconds, thinking, when all of a sudden he spoke up.

"Sherlock, you don't know anything about self-defense, do you?"

"No John, can't say I do."

Sherlock was puzzled at John's sudden question.

"Maybe it's about time you learned."

"What do you-? Oh. _Oh!_ "

"I mean, rugby's taught me a lot of different things, so maybe…"

"Of course, that's a wonderful idea, brilliant!"

John smiled a little, one of those completely genuine smiles that's hard to come by, and Sherlock beamed, for he knew that he was one of very few people that could make John smile like that.

"So, when do we start?" Asked Sherlock excitedly.

"I think the first question is, what do we do about later?"

"Ah, ignore them; I don't need to be afraid anymore now that I've got you," Sherlock gushed, blushing a little.

"So, my place then?"

"I don't see why not."

"Awesome. I guess I'll see you after school then," said John, knowing that he didn't have any other classes with the tall brunette that day. "Later."

"Catch you later."

* * *

 **So… this chapter was pretty long… I am so sorry about that. Let me know what you think by leaving a** _ **review**_ **, and please-comments, suggestions, tell me everything!**


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